


Prioritize

by whisperedwords



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Lydia is 18 don't worry, Lydia is frustrated, Parrish is damn sneaky, Stiles is the worst at timing, Teasing, and kinkier than we give him credit for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 07:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2301983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedwords/pseuds/whisperedwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia needs to straighten out her priorities. Parrish doesn't really help her out there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prioritize

**Author's Note:**

> there is literally no lydia/parrish smut and it is DISAPPOINTING AND FRUSTRATING because i can't write smut for shit. please excuse all the poorly written, unbeta'd everything; this has been sitting in my drafts for days and i had to get it somewhere.

Okay, Lydia knows she should be putting together notes for Malia for their upcoming final exam. And yes, she’s going to get to it, eventually—just not right now, when Jordan Parrish is kissing down her jaw and digging his fingers into the soft skin of her hips. They’re lying on his bed in his apartment, not located too far away from the station, and he’s hovering over her and taking his time, giving lavish attention to every inch of bare skin he can find. Lydia has to admit, he’s doing a pretty bang-up job of it.

Yeah, she’s a little bit preoccupied, but. It’ll get done.

“Mmmm,” She hums lowly, carding one hand through his mussed up hair. “That’s nice.” She feels him smile against her collarbone and giggles a little herself as he focuses his attention back on her lips.

“Nice? That’s all?” He teases between kisses, voice a little rough. “If I’m only worth _nice_ , then…” He pulls back a little, and she follows him, kissing him before he gets too far away.

“Good try, but you can’t outdo me. I’ve had my share of sleazy boyfriends before you. I know how these things work.” Lydia mumbles. Jordan pulls back a little at that, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, you know how _teenagers_ do things.” He says, an exaggerated look of deviousness spreading across his features. “But you’re an adult now. You’ve got to learn how we _adults_ do things.” He repositions himself so his arms are bracketing her and then smiles dangerously. She looks at him from beneath her lashes, lips open ever-so-slightly.

“And _how_ do we do things?” She asks softly. He smiles down at her, big and bright and so _Jordan_ that she finds it hard not to smile back.

“Tell me if this is too much.” He murmurs, and then swiftly captures her lips in his own, all laziness and innocence thrown out the window. She gasps into the kiss for a moment, and he pulls back, starting to look alarmed. Lydia tugs him back down for another kiss, the hand in his hair gripping tight and scraping his scalp lightly. He shudders. They part for air briefly, and she presses a hand to Jordan’s chest, splaying her fingers. She likes this, the _adult_ way of doing things. She’s about to say so, too, when her phone buzzes on the bedside table closest to them. She sighs. It doesn’t continue buzzing, so she knows it’s just a text, and that she could look at it later. Jordan sees her hesitation. “You should probably check that.” He murmurs, kissing her softly on the lips before sitting back on his heels and letting her reach for the phone.

It’s a text from Stiles. **_Any news on Malia’s notes?_** Is all it says. Lydia sighs. “What is it?” Jordan asks as he leans back over her. “Is there an emergency?” Lydia makes a noncommittal noise and puts her phone down before draping her arms loosely around his neck. “Lydia.”

“Stiles is just harassing me to send Malia a copy of my math notes. I can do that later, when I’m not busy.” She leans up to kiss him, but he pulls away.

“You should really help your friends.” He says sagely. She pouts. “What are you doing that’s more important than that?” Wordlessly, Lydia rests a hand against his cheek, which he leans into. Then she runs it down his jaw, his neck, down his t-shirt clad chest, and tugs on the front of his jeans.

“I dunno,” She murmurs, watching his eyes get big as her tugging gets more persistent. “I _guess_ I could leave...” Jordan gulps and shakes his head once.

“You should.” He repeats after taking a moment to compose himself. “Help your friends, I mean. I—” Lydia looks at him in awe and then sighs in frustration, pulling him down into another heated kiss.

“You’re so _good_.” She breathes as they part. “I’m basically lying here, offering you a blowjob, and you _still_ want me to go help my friends?” She shakes her head a little breathlessly, a grin spreading across her face.

“Nobody said I _wanted_ you to.” He murmurs, voice gravelly. He leans down and kisses her again. “Said you _should_.” Lydia looks up at him, eyes dark.

“I didn’t know you felt that way, _Deputy_.” She teases. Jordan dips his head to brush his lips between her breasts, resting his head for a moment as she plays with the hair on the back of his neck. He hums pleasurably against her.

“Mmm, say that again.” His voice is muffled, but Lydia knows exactly what he’s getting at. She raises an eyebrow.

“Really? I didn’t pin you to be that type—” The rest of her sentence turns into a gasp as Parrish slips his cool hands under her thin blouse and rests them against the heat of her skin. He doesn’t move his head from her chest as he deftly unhooks her bra—strapless, thank god—and pulls it away.

“Say it again,” He whispers, moving up to kiss her slowly. She’s breathless when they part.

“ _Deputy_ ,” She gasps, and his hands under her shirt cup her breasts, the cold causing her eyes to flutter closed. She arches a little against his palms, and he lets out a soft moan of approval.

The phone on the side table buzzes again. This time, though, it keeps buzzing. _Jesus_ , Lydia thinks, _can’t that boy leave me alone for a day?_ She rolls her eyes at Jordan, who’s smirking above her. “You should probably answer that.” He says, voice a little rougher than she’s used to. In a daze, she reaches over and accepts the call.

“Hello?” She asks, voice tinged with annoyance.

“Notes.” Is all Stiles says, and she’s about to make some sarcastic comment when Parrish tugs her skirt down and presses his lips chastely just below her hips. The words fizzle in her throat.

“I’ll get them done, Stiles. When do I ever—” She sucks in a breath as he kisses her inner thighs. He looks up at her watching him and mouths _‘keep going_ ’. “Come up short?”

Stiles seems to get that something’s up. “Are you alright, Lydia?”

“I’m fine. I thought I saw someone outside but I’m…I’m good.” She manages. Jordan is now kissing her through her lacy underwear, his nose causing just enough friction to force another stuttered breath out of her. She does so away from the receiver, though, so Stiles can’t hear her.

“Okay, good. Well, I’ve got Malia here right now. What if I just had her ask you the questions—”

“Oh my _god_ Stiles I’m busy can’t this wait a few hours,” Lydia babbles. With one hand, the deputy has her underwear pushed to one side—the other is forcing her hips down onto the bed as he licks a stripe up her wet folds. “ _Fuck!_ ” She forgets to bite her lip for that one.

“Lydia?” Stiles asks, concerned once again.

“I’m fine but I gotta go _jesus_ I’ll get Malia her notes don’t worry okaybye.” She can’t end the call fast enough, tossing the phone across the room in an attempt to distance herself from the outside world. She curls a hand in Parrish’s hair as he eats her out, talented tongue working its magic and causing her head to fall back onto the pillows of his bed. Her hair falls in her face a little, and she brushes it away so she can have a better view of her boyfriend. “ _Oh my god_.” He pulls away from her for a moment to give her a grin that makes something flutter in her stomach.

“Who was that?” He asks conversationally, returning to lick and kiss at her core. She shudders at his touch.

“Who d-do you think?” She stammers, the intended sarcasm lost as he dips his tongue into her. “Stiles wanted Malia to ask me questions over the phone—oh my _god_ —can you believe him? God, don’t stop.”

He mumbles something unintelligible, but before she can respond, he bites her left inner thigh, and she gasps in shock and then comes, a startled gasp escaping her lips along with his name. _Jordan, Jordan, Jordan_. He crawls up and kisses her softly, once again bracketing her between his arms. She looks up at him through her eyelashes.

“Beautiful.” He murmurs against her lips, and she breaks out into a smile. Her gaze flickers downward and sees the tenting of his pants.

“Need some help with that?” She teases breathily. He pretends to ponder for a moment.

“You’re not gonna get any more interrupting calls, are you?” He asks lightly, and she rolls her eyes.

“I think I may have broken my phone against your wall, so no, not that I know of.” She replies. “Now, lie down.”

He obliges more than willingly.


End file.
